


Night at the Museum

by elsaofarendelle



Category: Avengers, Marvel, Thor - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:36:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsaofarendelle/pseuds/elsaofarendelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This drabble marks the beginning of Loki and Darcy’s relationship; one that is very dear to my heart.  I hope you enjoy reading this as much as we did writing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night at the Museum

Loki had been on his fifth drink; or was it his seventh? In all honesty he had lost track and the way he unceremoniously bumped into one of the gallery’s sculptures and nearly toppled it was more than proof. “Oops”, he blearily smiled to himself and tried to straighten the piece out before any of the guards patrolling the event would notice. Humans cared far too much for their piddly things in his opinion; why Stark had chosen an art gallery to donate to he would never understand.

“Loki you are drunk?” The female voice yanked him from his current task and towards it’s source, one Darcy Lewis. The two had grown a tentative friendship since his banishment began. She had become one of the very few people he could attribute the word to anymore. “What? I am not, this mortal swill couldn’t infect a moth.” He smiled and made to wave off her question. “I have to disagree. I’m way bigger than a moth and I am definitely drunk.”

“I am not drunk”, he chuckled back, “ I’m Jotun … . mortal drinks are weak.” The slurred statement drew a giggle from Darcy who had had more than her fair share of the open bar as well. “You’re either drunk or someone hit you on the head, and considering your rock hard head…” , She wobbled a bit in her high heels. They were quite a change from her usual jeans and sneakers, “that last vodka-cran went straight to mine.”

Loki laughed and managed to catch her before she toppled over and twisted her ankle. “ Alright detective, I may be slightly intoxicated. But there is no other way to make it through this ghastly event.” Darcy found herself smiling up at him; her hands still clutching to his arm for balance and the sudden warmth his presence offered. “Pfft, I’m a little past slightly. It’s not so bad; I got to wear a pretty dress!”

His hands lingered on her arms a moment longer than necessary; eyes roaming over her body with a new perspective. ”You look beautiful”; He smiled and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Not that you don’t always look nice.” She smiled with red painted lips. She’d even worn the satiny lipstick that had cost more than she would ever admit. “Aww!” Giggling, she fussed with his tie, straightening the knot. “You look snazzy too.”

He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, counting every spec of color in her eyes. “People dance at these things, yes?” He suddenly felt like a young prince who’d forgotten how to court a lady. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Darcy?” She flushed just a little, but laughed, the corner of her mouth turned up in a skeptical smile. “I’m tripping on my own feet and you want to dance? I can barely dance sober. I’m gonna fall over and die.”

“Slip off your shoes and stand on mine.” He laughed and laced his hand in hers; the other snaking around her waist, eyes holding her gaze. “Let me lead you and I promise you will never fall.” Darcy kicked off her shoes excitedly, stepping carefully on top of his feet. It made her feel like a little girl again, and she giggled, smiling wide when he started to step. Loki had to hold her close to keep her balance, and she wrapped her arm around his shoulder, leaning her forehead against his collarbone. 

She was so close; almost hungry to be near him it seemed, her warmth testing his resolve in that moment more than it ever had before. His hand pressed gently to her back to hold her securely as the pair swayed to a song that Loki could no longer hear over the beating of his own heart. “And you thought you couldn’t dance”, he chuckles softly into her hair.

“You’re dancing. I’m just along for the ride,” she grinned, her thumb stroking subtly along his hand where their fingers were threaded together. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol or being so close to him, turning on the spot, that made her lightheaded. Inebriation always made her clingy, and Darcy happily leaned against him, her cheek against his shoulder and turned into his neck. “We can’t all have fancy royal dance lessons, thanks.”

He wondered if she could feel the race of his pulse or intensity of his breaths as he steeled himself to remain the prince he had been raised to be. “Do not doubt the magic you wield.” His nose brushed against hers as his eyes stole glances to her ripe lips, so ample and in need of kissing, praying she would close the distance between them.

Darcy’s eyes opened and he was so close. She could feel his breath puffing against her mouth, smelling the red wine he’d drunk. She glanced quickly from his lips to his eyes and back, and her hand tightened minutely on his shoulder when she witnessed his wide pupils, surrounded by a ring of green. His words confused her, she was sure she hadn’t heard him right, and a fine line appeared between her brows, but it didn’t stop her from drifting closer, so slow until her lips ghosted against his. They were featherlight, as if testing whether or not they were welcome there before getting any closer.

He returned the kiss, chastely just how he liked it. Savoring the taste of her lips as his tongue glided over them in a request for entrance; hands seeking to hold her closer. The scent of orchids wafted from the corsage on her wrist; filling his nostrils and drawing a lite moan form his chest as he increased the pressure on her lips, parting reluctantly for much needed air and the need to find his resolve once more. “I fear if you do not stop me I will become les the gentleman.”

“I don’t want you to be a gentleman,” she murmured before kissing him again, a firmer press of lips than before. Her knees knocked against his when she tried to lean in closer, her perch on his feet making it a little awkward, but she didn’t care. Her hand held tightly to his shoulder, and when she pulled back she smiled, her other hand letting go of his to rub at the red on his mouth with her thumb, giggling. “Oh, Loki, your lipstick is lovely.”

He chuckled, hands moving to lift her body on to his hips, lips crashing against hers with a hunger he hadn’t had in centuries. He quickly moved into a vacant room across the hall and deposited her on to the counter, his teeth raking teasingly down her neck and over her collarbone, “Open your legs for me.” Long fingers tickling the back of her knees to coax them into compliance and his jacket hitting the floor along with his tie.

Darcy dissolved into squeaking giggling when he suddenly picked her up, carrying her away. Her hands held his shoulders tightly, though there was never really any fear that he might drop her, and when he asked her to part her legs she laughed, even as she complied. “Apparently your switch goes between ‘gentleman’ and ‘ravishing’ and there’s no in between.” Her legs bent at his touch, her knees rising instinctively when he tickled her. “Ahh!”

“My resolve was thin as it was.” His hands rested on her knees for a moment before slowly sliding up her thighs; pausing at the apex of her legs. “I can feel how weak yours is becoming.” His thumbs slipped beneath the thin layer of lace that covered her core, skilled digits stroking her moist slit. “So receptive to my touch… . it will fall with mine soon enough.” Loki’s lips crashed against hers as two long fingers entered her.

She watched his hands drift up under her skirt, her lips parting while her breath started to pick up. His hands found her core, and a red blush spread across her cheeks, her face heating at his touch. “As if I ever have any willpower about anything,” she managed to say, her voice choked, and when fingers pushed inside her, her voice was lost. Her hands clutched tightly at his upper arms, her hips bucking against his hand, and when his lips found hers she kissed him back for all she was worth, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth and sucking.

With his thumb massaging her epicenter in rhythmic circles and fingers hooking to connect with the spongy flesh of her core Loki peppered fevered kisses over her throat and chest; each brush of his mouth leaving claiming marks of lust, his free hand moving to unfasten the belt at his waist. “Your moans are that of an angel; sing for me again.” In one swift motion her body was urged back on the counter top and his hovered eagerly above hers. Braced by his elbows for support Loki, his trousers on the floor beside her panties, hoisted her skirt and pressed his erection against her now seeping folds.

“Loki!” Darcy cried out, more than willing to let him know what he was doing to her. Her voice was deep and choked, and when he pulled his hand from her she whimpered, her hips pressing forward, seeking friction. Laying back on the counter, her legs parted, giving him plenty of space to press between. She felt him, pressed hard and hot against her core, and her blush spread down her neck and over her breasts. Biting her lips, lipstick smeared around her mouth, she clung to his shoulders, panting. “Loki, please.”

Shifting his hips lower he brought the tip of his length to slide between her folds and into her entrance; exhaling slowly as her slick walls tried to draw his deeper, pulling back he sighed a pleasurable moan of her name before thrusting himself deeper. Her body taking in his length to its hilt while a hand grasped her rear and pulled her closer, hips picking up a rolling motion as he moved inside her. Darcy’s breath was starting to come in sharp pants, and she rocked her hips to meet his. She buried her face against his neck, pressing occasional kisses there while she clung to his shoulders. Every thrust was like a building warmth, and she gasped breathlessly, his name occasionally riding on an exhale.

“Darcy … . . ” Her name rolling on his tongue in a heated gasp for breath, Loki’s fingers intertwined with hers and moved them above her head, using the grasp as leverage to quicken the pace of his thrusts. His hips pounding against hers and his teeth pulling at her bottom lip before taking her in a passionate kiss.

She returned the kiss as best she could. Their panting made it sloppy, all tongues and breath, but she didn’t care. Her fingers flexed against his, squeezing tightly whenever he thrust at the perfect angle. He sped up, and she broke the kiss to let her head fall back against the counter with a thunk, gasping, “Oh god yes. Fuck!” His kisses traced the line of her jaw and down her throat. A pleased chuckle escaping him at the feel of her body clenching tighter around him as his tip brushed her cervix and caused her composure to fall away. “It is beautiful, the way you come apart like this.” His words forced out through breathless gasps for air; sweat forming on his brow. “Let go Darcy, let yourself go and I will catch you.”

Her nails pressed into the back of his hands and her thighs wrapped around his hips, her heels pressing into his back. Her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed with concentration while she strained for the edge she felt building inside her. She teetered on it, soft cries of pleasure escaping her throat while she bucked under him. Her heel pressed into his back like a spur and he gave a particularly sharp thrust, slamming inside her just so and her whole body tensed. She cried his name like a prayer and arched under him while she was consumed by the wave of heat that rushed over her.

The litany of cries that left her parted lips drove him closer to his own climax, he could feel the familiar heat building at the base of his spine, it’s pressure coursing through him as he did all he could to suppress it. “Find your release with me” The words spoken in a horse whisper as his pace grew in intensity. His eyes grew darkened and wanton as they met hers.

Fighting to keep her eyes open she stared back at him, pupils dark and wide and lips parted as she gasped for air. It was the eye contact that did it in the end. The bare, raw wanting on his face shot through her like a shock and she sobbed his name when she came. Her back bent like a bow and she shook like a leaf, her eyes losing focus while she tightened around his length. The feel of her body coming undone so seamlessly helped to bring him to his own releases within her. Her now soaked core milking him dry as he collapsed over her; his face buried in her chest as he panted in time with her racing heartbeat. 

The two lay intertwined; one with the other, for a long moment before Loki withdrew himself and rolled over beside her on the cool surface of the counter. Both sharing a breathless smile and a life changing kiss.


End file.
